


My Mind to Your Mind

by HecatesKiss



Series: Earthbound Pleasures [5]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 22:00:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HecatesKiss/pseuds/HecatesKiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lt. Commander Travis is <i>concerned</i> about Cadet Kirk's state of mental health.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Mind to Your Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. Just borrowing the characters. Will return them... eventually.  
> ~*~  
> No part of this story may be reproduced, copied, modified or adapted, without the prior written consent of the author.~ dated 27-08-2014. 
> 
> Guys? I have no problem with download for PERSONAL use, aka a private copy for your e-reader. Zero problema! 
> 
> No, what really makes me see red and want to exterminate something or someone is when my stuff shows up outside of Ao3.

Jim drummed his fingers against his thigh. The morning lecture was nearly rote and boring. He had read the PADD data before coming in, and honestly wondered why he bothered. It was just going over the same things, without any more detail.

Jim frowned when an icon in the bottom of his tray blinked. He poked at it and his eyebrows climbed into his hairline.

_Jim, Do you need to talk? I’m on campus today. Just tell me where and when.  
Dr. Mallory Hudson _

Jim jolted when the students suddenly scrambled. He realized it was end of class. He pushed to his feet as he tapped his PADD to reply to the message.

_Now. I’ll be crossing the green in ten coming from the Wiesan Building. ~ JTK_

_Meet you on the steps. I’m in clinic dress today. ~DMH_

* * *

“Hey Jim.” Jim looked up and smiled at the woman in science blues. Her hair was a sassy crimson streaked with strips of silver and hacked into a bob. He shook her hand and easily fell into step beside her as they walked down the stairs.

“Hey Mallory.” Jim flashed her a smile and angled across the commons, firmly moving away from the small _Kelvin Memorial Wall_ heading instead towards the column lined walk way.

“You know you should at some point, Jim.”

“I saw it enough growing up. On the day he died. Don’t need to.” Jim responded, voice a bit sharp. Mallory nodded, grey eyes understanding. Neither person mentioned that the day Jim’s father had died was also the day of Jim’s birth.

“Did you need to see me today? I know you were prescribed a quarter-dose of xytiavotal yesterday. That’s some pretty hard stuff, James.”

“I know. That’s why it was only a quarter dose. Want to grab some lunch? My treat.” Jim asked, easily deflecting the worry. Mallory nodded. Jim lead her to a small cafe and nodded politely to the server who smiled and nodded back.

“Hey Jim. Usual booth is open. Will Dr. McCoy be joining you?”

“Hey Telli, not today. I’ve got an old friend with me today though. Telli? Mallory Hudson. Mallory? Telli Corvos. She makes the best maitai’s this side of the galaxy.” 

“Flatterer.” Telli said with a grin as the Doctor nodded. The next group of people coming in had Jim nodding and slipping past the server, leading the woman to his usual booth. He seated her and then slid in himself. He grinned. 

“You would probably like the vegetarian lasagna. I’ve managed to avoid it. Has garlic.” Jim flashed a quick smile. Mallory’s brow arched.

“It’s one of seven substances that will make my throat close up. Or at least, its one of seven _known_ substances. However, I’ve been assured by other friends that it’s delicious.” 

“Thank you. Let’s see if I remember the list… tomato, eggplant, soybean, every pepper species known to the galaxy, onions, pine nuts… that’s as far as I can remember.”

“All tree nuts are an allergen for me, not just pine nuts. Peanut allergy too.” Jim said.

‘When was the peanut allergy found, Jim?”

“The day I got back from Hell?” Jim said with a slight smile. Mallory rolled her eyes.

Their orders were quickly taken, Mallory’s eyebrow rising as Jim ordered a seafood pasta in an alfredo sauce. Jim shrugged and really smiled when he ordered something to drink and only said he wanted his ‘usual’. “Nothing in their stuff that will affect me.”

Once their drinks were brought out, Jim and Mallory kept their conversation light and friendly, Jim asking about her husband and the two grandchildren while she brushed carefully along the edges of his life. He shook his head when she asked about relationships. He deflected with a murmur about nothing being serious. He picked up his wine glass and took a sip of the light coloured liquid.

He leaned back when a plate of clam and crab alfredo and linguini was placed in front of him. She accepted her plate of lasagna and both waited for the server to step away before the Doctor flicked a blue privacy barrier into place. Jim glanced at her PADD without emotion for a moment and then picked up his fork. He twirled a bit of the lunch onto his fork and took a bite before he squared his shoulders and met her gaze head on.

“The half hypo flagged me for review, didn’t it?”

“It did, Mr. Kirk.” 

“Very well, my Commanding Officer, Instructor Travis, denied my request to sit out the discussion and lecture of the Tarsus IV Incident, also known as the Tarsus IV Massacre, yesterday. I was commanded to attend. As I know my reaction to discussion of the event, when presented in full detail is detrimental to my health, I arranged with my personal physician to be given a single quarter dose of a medication that would block my ability to panic for the duration of the discussion.”

“The drug chosen…”

“Is only used for severe trauma patients. I am aware. You, yourself, know my history Dr. Hudson. You understand _exactly_ why yesterday was emotionally draining on me. Also, factor in that most of the other drugs in that field are all either peanut or pepper derivatives, for some reason.”

Mallory grimaced, lips twisting as she realized that.“I do. What did you do after class ended?”

“I rather bluntly explained the situation to my commanding officer and then departed campus, with a medical order to do so. I’m sure your records have that information.” Jim said, face nearly immobile.

“I do. After that?”

“I returned to my apartment and slept for nearly three hours, got up, showered, dressed, made myself lunch, and forced myself to eat. Chicken with green beans if you were wondering. You’ll be happy to know that I then parked myself on my bed and did those exercises you taught me all those years ago.”

“Did the meditation help?”

“Some. I didn’t examine memories while I was sitting. I won’t on the day of.”

“What else?”

“For diner I went to a little non-Fleet bar. Survivor’s Meal. Yes, full bottle of brandy before you ask. And I have about a quarter of it left. Least, I think it’s about a quarter.” Jim rubbed a hand against the back of his neck.

“In the last six months…”

“That bottle, about a dozen beers, an occasional shot of whiskey on Tuesdays with Bones. That’s it.” Jim said.

“And whatever that is.” Mallory said, pointing to the glass. Jim smiled and shook his head.

“I have plain grape juice. Even Bones doesn’t realize it. Telli brings it in a wine glass, with a blue charm.” Jim lifted the glass and tipped it slightly, so the blue ring clipped to the stem could be seen. “Entire establishment knows I only drink virgin while in here.”

“You have a history of heavy consumption.” Jim laughed and idly catalogued the way she glanced at her PADD, almost as if she was getting updates on something, or recording.

“The Fleet doesn’t know everything. I drink the occasional beer or shot of whiskey. Then I switch to juices that mimic the look. Ask any of my regular tenders. They will tell you my own orders are exactly two hard drinks, beer included, and then I’m swapped to a juice or even water if somebody’s been doing vodka with me.” Jim shook his head.

“But…”

“The day I’m the most at risk of poisoning myself is Anniversary. Either of them. You’ll be glad to know I had a guest sit down at my table last night. That means at least two of the shots didn’t go down my throat.” 

“How much of the bottle did?”

“I’d guess my guest had at least five shots total? So I only really did about a full third of the bottle. And you know my rule.”

“Anything not finished in twenty-four hours gets dumped down the sink.” Mallory muttered. Jim nodded.

“How are you even functioning?”

“Hangover hypo, a bit of mild pain medication, and coffee.” Jim shrugged. “You know i only binge like that twice a year.”

“How many hypos do you have?”

“All my med ones are in the bathroom, and they are all allergen related. The hangover is next to the bed. I have a five pack, and I’ve used one this year. They are from the start of the year too. Three left.” Jim caught her look and explained, “My best friend’s daughter’s birthday was last month. His bitch of an ex wouldn’t let him see her. Even sent his present back. He needed the hypo after that much.”

Mallory winced in sympathy. She nodded and took a bite of her food, willing to post-pone more discussion. Jim sipped at his white grape juice and forked up another mouthful of clam meat and pasta.

Jim’s eyes narrowed when Mallory’s PADD beeped and her eyes widened. Jim lifted an eyebrow for a moment and then frowned as he remembered something.

“So, Doctor, what did they find at my place that worries them, and you?” Jim asked, hand resting over the mouth of his drink, blue eyes cold.

“The cupboard next to the replicator…”

“Ration bars. Three varieties. Including synthchocolate. With my… profile… that’s not going to be odd. It’s practical.” Jim smirked. “Two sealed bottles of Tellerite cognac. Along with various other sweets and exotic foods. Tell them to look in the left hand drawer of my desk, blue folder. That’s your permits for the Tellerite cognac. They are planned graduation gifts for two specific people.” Mallory’s eyes widened and her PADD chimed again. Jim smirked, but his eyes remained hard. 

“There should still be half glasses of brandy on the end table by the couch. If they haven’t gotten to the bedroom yet, they’ll find messy sheets. And the rest of the i’gavan brandy. They can bag whatever they need to, because obviously, I’m a second away from crack up if I was drinking brandy and eating chocolate with an intimate acquaintance last night. You know what? Just tell them to dump the brandy.”

“Jim…”

“Don’t. Just don’t, Dr. Hudson. Obviously Travis was a little _too_ concerned and they dragged you in as a distraction, or you offered. Just so that _they_ are aware, they will find ejaculate on the sheets. Two donors. I didn’t strip them this morning.” Jim’s tone is still friendly even as his face settles into a mask that either Tommy or Kev would have recognized as trouble coming.

Mallory blinked and gaped. Jim bared his teeth in a parody of a smile as rage smouldered in his gaze. He put down his fork and got to his feet. He broke the privacy field and stalked over to Telli. He settled the bill and glided away, movements stiff, rage rippling through his posture.

The day was bright, the fog had burned off and he squinted and ducked his head. He muttered an apology when he collided with a person and looked up. He startled slightly when he realized it was the Lt. Commander.

“Wow, sorry. I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind…” Jim trailed off and his eyes widened when the other man lifted a hand and skimmed his fingers over Jim’s wrist.

“You are obviously upset. I am available to talk... should you require assistance?”

“Are you familiar with the quiet zones in Wiesman?”

“Yes. I often meditated there as a student of the Academy.” 

“Did Fleet or Dr. Hudson send you after me?”

The Vulcan looked startled. “No. I was not aware that Starfleet required your presence. And who is Dr. Hudson… are you avoiding medical treatment?”

“Dr. Mallory Hudson was my shrink after the Massacre. She and I kept in contact. She contacted me today. Apparently I have Fleet crawling over my apartment. Somebody in Fleet decided I needed a spot check. Bastards.” 

“I am uncertain as to what a person’s parentage has to do…” Spock trailed off when Jim shook his head and made his way across the green.

Jim said nothing as they walked up the steps together. Jim took an immediate left, knowing there was a quiet zone on the first floor. He glanced at the door light and found it dark. He tried the handle and the unassuming white door slid open under his touch. The Vulcan followed him in, both men automatically toed out of their shoes and Jim engaged the privacy lock before he settled himself down onto the mat, legs tucked comfortably under him.

“What can I assist you with?”

Jim blew out a breath. “Let’s see… I’m pretty sure my Instructor just dropped a mental health check on my file. The fact that I ended up rolling around with you last night probably calls into question my sanity somehow. Or would argue emotional compromise.”

“You were making choices last night. You invited me back to your domicile where we both engaged in acts of a sexual nature as consenting adults.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a feeling somebody upstairs is going to try and argue that I couldn’t have been thinking straight.” Jim laughed, yet there was no humor in the sound. “My ex-shrink was thrown as a distraction. She knows, which means Fleet knows, I had sex last night while under the influence of Betazed Chocolate and Brandy. And fucking Fleet knows I don’t entirely test as null. Damn.”

“A Vulcan’s shielding cannot be damaged without conscious attack on the part of an aggressor. As you were not the aggressor, and in fact asked for mental privacy to be maintained between us, such a charge could not be levied, unless I myself were to do so. It would not be logical.”

“Fleet Brass isn’t exactly logical, Spock. Besides, Pike wanted me in. My instructor fucking hates me. And Travis knows people.”

“And what does that matter?”

“Connections make or break you. Yeah, I’ve got the fact I’m George Kirk’s Kid working for or against me, depending, but Travis? Travis knows the damn Governor.” Jim shuddered for a moment.

“What is the issue?”

“If they can somehow get me declared nuts, I lose my shot. And I am so close. Just the Maru test left and then graduation. I know I can beat it, Spock. I. Know.”

“You are not a fruit, Jim. Why would Starfleet want you declared as something classed as an import good?”

“Nuts as in crazy. Mentally imbalanced. Cracked.”

“A mind healer can assess such things. Do you require one?”

“If it will keep ‘Fleet off me? Sure. It’d have to go through proper channels, which would push back my graduation date. Shit, this is meant to get me worked up. Fucking bastard. I hate Travis.” Jim presses the heels of his palms against his eyes and draws in a ragged breath.

“There is another option, Mr. Kirk. As a Vulcan I am capable of standing in for a mind healer. My assessment would be given the same weight, as I am a touch telepath. I am also StarFleet personnel. You would only require a physician’s sign off.” 

“Wait.. you mean… you?”

“Yes.”

“Medical is accessible via the skywalk. My private physician is Dr. McCoy.”

“If you wish this done at once, it can be so.”

“Can you check to see if the flag is there?” Jim asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to access his own med file if it were flagged. The Vulcan inclined his head briefly and requested the information on his PADD. The man glanced up and brown eyes met blue. 

“You do have a mental health check notice appended. And it was appended by Instructor Lt. Commander Travis.”

Jim pushed to his feet and the Vulcan did the same. Both men pulled their shoes on and Jim popped the lock on the door before he stepped into the stream of students and instructors. He met Instructor Travis’ glare for a moment and then climbed the cold marble steps, headed for the third floor and the skywalk.

* * *  
Jim grabbed Bones by the elbow and tugged the man towards one of the exam rooms. The doctor swore and struggled for a moment, but then he got a good look into Jim’s eyes and stilled.

“What’s wrong, Kid?”

“Travis. Because we decided to medicate instead of me completely bailing the other day, he dropped a Flag on my file.” 

“Who’s that?”

“Dr. Leonard McCoy… Lieutenant Commander Spock.” Jim made the introduction quickly and then nodded towards an exam cubical. Bones’ eyebrows lifted but he nodded and stepped in, the Vulcan following a step behind.

“It seems that Mr. Kirk has been flagged for mental instability. However, nothing can be checked without his physician's signature.” 

Jim hopped up onto the exam table and watched Bones’ eyebrows crawl into his hair. “All right, now I know this is bad. What does Jim need, and why is a Starfleet Science Officer willing to help and what kind of help?”

“As a Vulcan Officer, I am trained in the mental arts. I can sense instability in a human mind. The process involves a light meld.”

“You agree to this?” Bones glared at his best friend. Jim merely nodded. Bones sighed. “Fine. I’ll sign off on it.”

“Thanks Bones. Now, what do we need to do?”

“Jim…”

“Relax.”

The doctor huffed and folded his arms as he set his PADD down. The glare was protective and Jim smiled over it. His attention then went to last night’s lover. A small smile curved his lips.

“Simple. Might I have your thoughts?” Spock asked, fingers reaching up, fingers spread to rest gently against the meld points on Jim’s face.

“You may.” Jim responded, leaning forward. Their eyes locked as Spock mentally moved forward and then took a step back with a frown.

“Jim? You must lower your shields. I will not break through them.”

“Oh. I didn’t…”

“As you said yourself, you are barely above null. Your shields are instinctive. May I have your thoughts?”

Jim meets his gaze for a moment and draws a breath, consciously relaxing something that has acted like a buffer between him and nightmares for years. It almost hurts and he sucks in a breath.“You may.”

Jim drew in another breath and relaxed, eyes sliding closed. He twitched slightly as he felt something else in his mind. He frowned, everything in him going still, all his attention focused on the presence.

The other presence was like a soothing balm, a touch of a cool cloth against a fevered brow. He felt something inside him snap taught, something new, something missing slotting into place and he drew a breath. 

_Spock?_ The thought echoes from him and back to him from the other mind. Something ripples through him and then the meld is suddenly gone. Jim pitches forward, almost falling off the exam table, hands outstretched to grab for something that is purely mental in nature.

Spock’s hands steady him, warmer alien flesh meeting Jim’s skin at just above his bent elbows. Jim makes a small noise, which Spock hushes with lips against his temple and a whispered word.

“ _T'hy'la_.”

Jim faintly registers Bones swearing in the background, but his attention is fixed on the dark man that is cradling him, keeping him from the floor by his own strength. He eases back when gentle pressure from Spock nudges him down. He lays down without protest.

“Just what in Sam Hill was that?”

“An unexpected reaction to a mind meld, Doctor. Nothing to be concerned about. Merely a recognition of something that should have been realized upon our first meeting. Because it was not recognized at our first meeting, the blame for the reaction falls on me.”

“And will that impact Cadet Kirk’s mental status?” Bones barks, clearly unnerved. Jim turns his head and looks over the Vulcan’s shoulder to meet worried worried brown eyes that also held a bit of heat.

“Negative.”

“Yours?”

“Negative.”

“Bullshit.”

“Cadet Kirk’s mental status is stable. He has integrated the memories of trauma effectively. There are not gaping razh in his psyche.”

“No what?” Bones asked.

“Sorry, holes. His mental landscape, as I believe you would term it, is normal for a Terran. He is functional. You should restore your shields, Jim.” 

“What was that term… Tuhia?”

“Not something you need to concern yourself with, Doctor. Your _friend_ is functional.”

“And you? You look like somebody just dropped a watermelon on your head.”

“The connection was merely a shock. I will sign off on the plas-sheets saying he is functional and fit for duty.” Spock said, face smoothing impassive, even as his pupils were still contracted to pinpricks.

Spock signed off on everything that needed done and then escorted Jim away from a still frowning doctor.

* * *

“What’s wrong?” Jim asked as he coded himself into his apartment and glanced around. He grabbed the empty bottle of brandy and chucked it into the recycler. The Security guys had only done _half_ the job, he realized as he toed off his shoes.

“I am functional.” Spock responded as he followed suit, shedding his shoes at the door.

“To quote Bones, bullshit.”

“I fail to see how bovine fecal matter is relevant to this conversation.” 

“You pulled abruptly away from me. I’ve been in Betazed led melds before. You jerked back in every sense of the word. What was that?”

“I apologize for any distress I may have caused. I was … unprepared for the reaction.”

“ _What_ reaction?”

“Among my people there are various connections. Some are spontaneous. Some are deliberately formed.”

“All right.” Jim blinked and shook his head. “Want something to drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Jim programmed himself a glass of sweet tea, Georgia Style, as Bones always called it and sipped, one arm wrapped across his stomach as he leaned against the wall, kitchen counter separating them. “Have a seat if you want one. Now, connections?”

“As I was saying, among my people there are various mental connections formed. Some for temporary purposes, some for deeper reasons. All are respected to the utmost degree.”

“All right.” Jim nodded to show he was following.

“Such a connection awoke between us when I touched your mind. I immediately shielded the connection, which I now realize caused you distress.”

“So, how long will it take to fade?”

Jim’s eyebrow rose when Spock clasped his hands behind his back and blinked. That wasn’t a normal reaction. “Spock?”

“The bond that formed between us is intimate in nature. It _can_ be broken if it should prove needed.”  
Jim frowned and lifted a hand to rub behind his left ear as a sudden pain jarred him. He blinked when Spock was suddenly in front of him, fingers cupping the back of his head, tipping his head back gently.

“Forgive me. I did not…”

“Shh. That was you? Your … distress?”

A nod answered him. Jim frowned, brain making intuitive leaps. “This isn’t temporary. Not if you are talking about breaking it. Breaking suggests pain.”

“Not to you. Being nearly Psi-null….”

“Bullshit. Whatever _this_ is, would hurt. If I can _feel_ you, and you said it’s intimate… was it because we had sex last night and then this snapped into place? I felt it click. Like something missing…” Jim trailed off and flushed, realizing what he was saying while last night’s conquest was cradling his head in large hands.

“To me. Not to you. It can be severed.”

“How badly?”

“It is --”

“Spock. Don’t try. I can _feel_ you. You are worried, scared. Just spit it out.”

“That would be disgusting, and a waste of resources.”

Jim thunked his head against the wall and sighed. “Idioms. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

“This bond is not a temporary one. It is intended to be permanent in nature.”

“So… you’ll always be hanging out in a corner of my mind? That’s weird. Will that mess me up for graduation?”

“No. It…”

A slight tremor rippled through the hand that cradled Jim’s head. Jim blinked and frowned.  
“Just say it.”

“The T'hy'la bond is originally a bond between warriors. Brothers-in-arms. T'hy'la can mean brother, or friend, or… lover.”

“So like the Greeks? Warriors that also fucked each other?” Jim’s question is blunt, and he realizes as soon as Spock’s brows knit that he’s said the wrong thing.

“No. This was… is… _more_. It can be broken. It is the highest trust, the rarest bond. It is sacred.” Jim can see that Spock is becoming frustrated by Standard, groping for words and coming up short. The thrum of frustration ripples across his skin.

“Can you explain this in a meld? If language is tripping you up…”

“My feet are not in danger of being snared.” Spock returns, completely serious. Jim huffs out a laugh as the ice in his drink shifts against the sweating glass in his fingers.

“No. Spock. Language barriers. I… trust you. If a meeting of the minds will help… go for it. Cause I’m obviously missing something here. And the language is having issues coping.”

“My mind to yours?” Spock asks, voice clipped and carefully formal. Jim nods and the fingers cradling his skull slip forward and find his meld points. Jim locks his gaze with that of Spock’s and the world dissolves.

Flashes of desert dry air burn his lungs, the heat prickles across his skin, the sand scratches under his feet as he shifts his stance. Blades flash in the light of a blinding primary star. He spins and turns, blocks, cuts, and steps back. The sound of a blade whistling and then just _stopping_ a fraction of an inch from his throat. Spock’s mouth relaxes. His free hand comes up. Two fingers reaching for his free hand. Jim reaches out. The touch is electric. Flashes of blood soaked sands, protection always at his back, always next to his side. A warm place to sleep, food provided, protection offered. Always touching, never touched. _His_. _Theirs_. Always. Understanding floods through his brain.

Jim feels the meld slowly withdrawn and opens his eyes. He stares into soft darkness and licks his lips. “ _T’hy’la_.”


End file.
